


so many things that I wish you knew (so many walls up, I can’t break through)

by nithenoel



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, HQSwiftWeek2020, Hurt No Comfort, Introspection, Lack of Communication, M/M, Post-Break Up, everyone's sad and pining: the fanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26470477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nithenoel/pseuds/nithenoel
Summary: He and Hajime haven't spoken in years.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru (past)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	so many things that I wish you knew (so many walls up, I can’t break through)

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2 of the Haikyuu x Taylor Swift Week 2020; the title comes from the song "The Story of Us", of the "Speak Now" album, and I tried to squeeze in nods to the lyrics in the narrative. 
> 
> I have a single wip to finish, and yet, here am I, crying over IwaOi instead (;Д;) 
> 
> Joke aside, this is the fastest story I've ever wrote; in maybe forty minutes I was already past the 1k mark, do you guys know how rare that is??? (many shoutouts to my sibling and their endless encouraging words because I'm pretty sure this wouldn't have happened otherwise) 
> 
> Anyway. Not beta-ed, all mistakes are mine; work skin is just for personal reading preferences, and hiding it won't change your experience in any way. There's a reference to sex, but nothing explicit. If you think I forgot to tag something, feel free to tell me :)

Tōru is pulling at his clothes again, trying to pretend to be busy even though he knows not a single person in the room believes his act.

Hajime is even more handsome than he was last year. Or the year before, when Tōru didn’t come but still got the photos from Makki because he didn’t want to break tradition. Shiny black hair, and a mouth that looks so soft even though Tōru knows it’s not ― it didn’t use to be, at least ―, Hajime is every bit as breath-taking as Tōru’s mind had been trying to trick him into thinking his ex-boyfriend wasn’t. It’s a gift, he thinks, to be able to lie to himself as well as he does; just not when it comes back to bite him in the ass like the realization that no matter what he tells himself every time temptation whispers in his ears, Tōru is not, in fact, over Iwaizumi Hajime.

There’s a lump in his throat, and he’s trying to pretend it’s thirst even though his eyes sting. He’s never been good at holding back tears, but makes an effort this time, unwilling to ruin yet another get-together. The fiasco from so long ago is still fresh in his memory. Why did they fight? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know if it even matters anymore, at this point.

He and Hajime haven’t spoken in years. Tōru still doesn’t listen to the part of him that says it’s Iwaizumi now. Iwaizumi, not his best friend Iwa-chan. Iwaizumi, not his boyfriend Hajime. Iwaizumi, not whatever it is that Tōru’s foolish heart wants to be true. He ruined this, ruined them, just like he ruins everything that is important to him.

Saccharine. Obsessed. _Fake_. There are so many things he wishes he could tell Haji‒ so many things he wishes he could tell Iwaizumi, now. So many truths about himself, so many confessions, so many secrets he’d never spilled before for fear of being vulnerable, of being judged, of being shrugged aside. But he’s lost the chance, and now that door’s closed. He’s lost his chance, and now Iwaizumi can’t even stand to look at him anymore, laughing out loud at something that Kindaichi said with his back firmly turned to Tōru.

It’s been like that ever since Tōru got here. They didn’t even greet each other, eyes that skittered here and there in a refusal to meet each other. There’s a bittersweet taste that sticks to Tōru’s mouth, something he’s capable of pretending isn’t there only when Iwaizumi is not so close.

They used to be best friends. They used to be teammates. They used to be lovers. Tōru kissed him under the stars in the roof of Iwaizumi’s home, made love to him in the sheets of his childhood bed. He still has the ugly keychain Iwaizumi gave him when they were eight, the plastic ring pop with which he jokingly proposed when they were eleven. Every time he visits his mother, everywhere he looks is filled to the brim with memories of the two of them. The loud cicadas they used to catch as children and then release back into the wild, all of them carefully catalogued in photos alongside the bug carcasses that Iwaizumi used to gift him because he thought they looked pretty.

Tōru hates those memories. He hates how much they hurt. He hates that even now, years later, he can’t come up with something better than an “I’m sorry” he’ll never be able to say because Iwaizumi won’t even _look_ at him, and even if he did, he deserves a better apology than that.

Above all, Tōru hates that there’s nothing he could say or do that would bring Iwaizumi back into his life.

* * *

Kindaichi’s ears are blushing scarlet under the strong white lights of the room and Hajime, for all he tries, can’t figure what the hell it is that he’s been listening for the last half an hour that would bring up that kind of reaction. He laughs when he thinks he should, “hmm”s and “aaa”s when it looks pertinent to do so, and does his best not to dwell on the man he knows he has his back turned to.

It doesn’t work. Much like a thorn on his side, the mere knowledge of Tōru’s presence in the room disorients him enough that all Hajime can think about is the fact that last time they were here was also the last time they spoke. It’s irrational to be so stuck in something that happened years ago. It’s outrageous. It’s pathetic. But Tōru was his best friend for much longer than he was Hajime’s lover, and Hajime ― Hajime _misses_ him. Acutely. He misses all the useless fights and the teasing, misses the way Tōru always knew what to say or what to do to make him feel better; misses the silent reassurances and the tight hugs, how Tōru’d always find a way to squeeze in a Godzilla movie in their alien marathons even if he’d also always argue that Godzilla isn’t technically an alien. It’s not that Hajime doesn’t miss the romantic bits, no ― he does, too. He misses pulling on Tōru’s ear for the amount of time he spent in the shower, just to flush ten different shades of red because Tōru always shamelessly suggested they shower together to save water; misses kissing him, his charming mouth and the hollow of his throat, that specific patch of soft skin that always had Tōru gripping his arms tighter and letting out a choked noise.

That’s the thing though, isn’t it? Hajime would sacrifice all of that, the kisses and the noises and how softly Tōru cradled his face between his hands, without a second thought if that would bring Tōru back into his life. He knows it won’t, that there’s no way around the chasm they’ve opened between them, but that doesn’t stop him from hoping. From _wanting_.

Loving Oikawa Tōru has been such a primal part of him for so long, and Hajime doesn’t even remember why they fought. He remembers the anger, oh, that he does, remembers words he bit out harshly only to regret them later and the way he waited for months for a call, a message, a visit that never came before he finally admitted to himself that it was over. That _they_ were over.

He doesn’t blame Tōru for never reaching out. How could he? It’s not like Hajime ever went after him, either, it’s not like he ever tried to explain, and at this point it might not matter anymore. A lifelong friendship discarded like trash on the sidewalk, memories that Hajime can’t and doesn’t want to forget. Romantic feelings he has tried _so hard_ to get over, only to see Tōru in everyone he felt even mildly attracted to, in every mouth he tried to kiss.

Tōru couldn’t even meet his eyes when he arrived. How are they supposed to come back from that? _Can_ they come back from that? Hajime feels like he’s grasping at straws at this point, praying for a hopeless cause.

Two years ago, he had a speech. Two years ago, he had an apology at the tip of his tongue, a milk bread he baked himself to gift as a peace offering. Tōru didn’t come. And Hajime could never bring himself to try again, was never brave enough to attempt crossing that bridge.

Now Tōru’s walls are so high, Hajime isn’t sure there’s even a way to fix this.

**Author's Note:**

> Why did they fight???? Who knows. My only knowledge is that miscommunication can't happen if you don't communicate, which... Is basically what they do. 
> 
> I might play around and continue this some time because I like happy endings ~~_damn it_~~ , but who knows. ([come scream at me on tumblr](https://nithesstuff.tumblr.com/) :D)


End file.
